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I had a tumultuous history , and Brooks still liked to reminisce about our many public displays of affectionate animosity.
    Tally’s eyes, clear as a Tulsa sky (isn’t that another country song, Lord help me) flashed as she leaned forward, “So, tell me, Sissy,” referring to her childhood nickname for me, “Was there blood?”  I laughed. Lord knows how hard it was not to love my little sister, hard as it was to put up with her.
    Tally l oved Cash as much as I once had, in a different sort of way. Cash was the brother Tally never had; and they understood each other in ways that Cash and I never could. They both liked keeping secrets, and both had the ability to make you love them, even while they were wreaking havoc.
    “No,” I addressed her, “as much as you’d like to imagine us back to clawing at each other again, we weren’t.” She eyed me skeptically with all the authority of the older sister she wasn’t.
    “I can’t think of a time when y’all have been in the same room for more than five minutes and you haven’t been scratchin’ at each other. I’m gonna ask you one more time. What in the hell was Cash Stetson doing in your office?” Not to be intimidated, I met her stare.
    “How do you know he was here for more than five minutes?” I countered. Not to be deterred, she shot me one eye under a raised brow.
    “I was watching from Daddy’s office. You’re lucky Mama went to have her hair done or she’d have seen the show too , and Lord knows you’d be getting the third degree from her by now as well .” She fixed me with the unwavering look that had made her famous. “For the third and final time, quit stallin’ on me. What was Cash Stetson doin’ in your office?” I took a deep breath, looked from my window to Tally and said words I never thought I’d say in reference to the boy who’d been a stick in my romantic craw since the day we’d met thirteen years ago.
    “He needs my help.”

Chapter Seven
     
    “You’ve got to be shittin’ me. Please tell me you’re shittin’ me. You’re not a divorce lawyer. You do real estate transactions and wills and like, like, paperwork,” Fae Lynn, my skinny childhood best friend bellowed, dropping the bite of chicken fried steak she’d been ready to eat. The fork clattered to the floor , and I retrieved it, waving to the waitress for a new one. After the Cash incident, Tally had insisted my blood sugar was low, causing me to make decisions I wouldn’t normally make. We’d headed across the street to Jerry’s , an extra greasy spoon. I was currently surveying the mess of French fried sweet potatoes and ribs on my plate.
    “That’s what I said,” Tally added, waving her ketchup-dripping fry in the air, slinging the condiment, “Not the ‘ you’re shittin’ me’ part, but the divorce lawyer part.”
    I smiled at Fae Lynn and said more calmly than I felt.
    “I assure you I shit you not, and I’ve studied family law as well, which includes divorce proceedings. I’m a little rusty, but we lawyers love research.” I waved my long fingers blandly . She regarded me with the same skepticism Tally had earlier, and her own added wariness.
    “Lilly, you’re vehemently opposed to divorce, you wrote your senior thesis on the theory of how divorce mediation can turn into marriage counseling. Pl ease tell me you didn’t say yes? Agh … You did. When are you going to learn with him?” She turned to Tally before I could answer in the negative and tell her I’d only promised him to think about it. “This is senior year all over again. I swear, it’s the jackass and the dumbass all over again.”
    I was the dumbass, in case you were confused.
    “Him saying ‘I miss you, come visit,’ her running to Tulsa, him forgettin’ to call, her cryin .’ Do Lizzie and Nonnie know about this?” Tally responded before I could.
    “ Hell no. You think we’d have been able to come to dinner if they did? It've been a damn intervention, although I